


More than we Deserve

by SciFiDVM



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Gen, LJ Secret Santa, Prompt: Bass and Miles have a conversation about Charlie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 02:56:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1101558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SciFiDVM/pseuds/SciFiDVM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate ending for what happens when Bass wakes up after the events of Dead Man Walking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More than we Deserve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littlecloud](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlecloud/gifts).



Bass woke slowly to a throbbing headache and a mouth that felt like it was full of cotton. It took him a moment of blinking and taking a few deep breaths before his brain registered that he was truly awake. Then it dawned on him why that was important. He wasn’t supposed to wake up again. Ever.

There was a moment of panic, where he questioned if he had truly regained consciousness, or if this was some type of afterlife. If such a state existed for him, it surely would not be pleasant. Then movement drew his attention to the room’s other occupant. Recognizing Rachel Matheson standing over the bed gave him no better indication as to which fate he had succumbed to.

Rachel’s face was impassive, her eyes deep empty pits. She roughly placed a glass of water on the nightstand next to the bed and returned to the far corner of the room wordlessly.

Slowly Bass sat up in the bed, reached for the glass, and took a tentative sip of the water. His wary eyes never left Rachel’s face as he did so. The water was cool on his throat, and he figured that he must actually be alive. That realization wasn’t particularly comforting with Rachel silently glaring at him. He tentatively raised his hand to rub the spot on his arm where the supposedly lethal injection had been administered. She gave him a knowing look as his fingers grazed over the sore spot on his skin.

Bass understood. For some reason, that he was sure had more to do with Miles and Charlie than with him, she had spared his life. He couldn’t keep the curiosity from reaching his eyes, but he knew better than to voice his question. She had already done far more for him than he deserved. He had no right to ask for answers. His knowing nod with a look of contrition was the only communication that passed between them. Appearing content that he was awake and out of danger, Rachel turned and left the room.

Alone in the room, Bass looked around briefly. He had no idea where he was. He doubted it was the Porter/Matheson homestead and there was far too much clutter to be Miles’s place. Miles. Had he known what Rachel was planning? Not likely. Miles would never have told him the things he had in that cell if he’d thought there was a chance he’d ever see him again. The thought of the long-kept secret that Miles had hidden from him made him wilt. He laid back down in the bed, the back of his head settling hard against the lumpy pillow.

He’d stared blankly at the ceiling for a long while as he contemplated the new development in his already fucked up relationship with his former best friend. Maybe he’d have been better off if Rachel hadn’t altered the shot, maybe they all would have been better off.

He barely reacted to the sounds of discord coming from outside the small bedroom he was cloistered in. When the door swung open, he turned his head and briefly locked eyes with the one person he was not prepared to see. He was also not prepared for the look in his eyes. It was disbelief, shock, and relief. That stung Bass more than it should have. He’d been prepared for anger, rage, hatred, or disappointment. The thought that Miles had actually mourned for him was more than he could take. Bass turned onto his side, facing away from Miles as he cautiously approached the bed.

“Bass?” Miles’s voice was strangled as he fought back his emotions.

Monroe shut his eyes hard, fighting back the unfamiliar feelings running through his mind and the moisture welling in his eyes. He was glad that Miles couldn’t see his face as he struggled and failed to control his emotions. A very uncomfortable silence stretched between the two men.

“God, would you two girls just get over yourselves and hug it out already?” Charlie’s smiling voice rang out from the doorway. She brushed past Miles, stepped up to the bed, and shoved Monroe’s shoulder.

He rolled over to face her, and was thoroughly surprised at the expression on her face. It was a sly half smile and came with an eye roll when he looked up at her. They had worked surprisingly well together during their travels, but he had always presumed that she tolerated him at best, biding her time until he was no longer useful.

“What part of ‘we need you’ sounds like ‘go get yourself killed’?”

“I’m sorry my execution was inconvenient for you.” He scoffed back.

“Just try not to do it again.” She put a hand softly on his shoulder, removing it only once he met her eyes and gave a slight smile in return. The verbal exchange may have remained sarcastic, but there was an undercurrent to the interactions that clearly suggested actual sentiment.

Charlie stepped away, leaving a clear line of sight between Miles and Monroe. Once they made eye contact and she was relatively sure that they would start talking, Charlie left the two men to their long overdue discussions.

“Miles.” Bass said flatly as he sat up in the bed.

Miles exhaled slowly, his face crestfallen. He began quietly, “Rachel told us what she’d done, and Charlie wanted to…” He trailed off. That wasn’t why he was there and they both knew it.

“She’s a damn good kid.” Bass supplied nearly instantly, anxious for a topic to help avoid addressing the elephant in the room. Then he thoughtfully added, “Has a way of getting to you. Makes you feel like you might be worth a shit.”

“Yeah.” Miles couldn’t help but agree. He could hear Maggie’s words from shortly before she died echoing through his mind. _They saved me. So, you give that girl half a chance, maybe she can do the same for you._ She’d been right, of course.

“You gotta realize you had a part in that.”

Miles’s pupils dilated and he looked at Bass nervously.

“Easy cowboy. I just meant takin’ her in the way you did last year.” Bass’s eyebrow shot up. “Is there something else I should know about?”

“Drop it, Bass.” The statement held all the force of a direct order issued by General Matheson.

Unfortunately, Bass had never been very good at taking orders. His eyes widened at the implications. “Well aren’t you just full of secrets these days.”

“I swear to God, Bass… If you don’t drop this…” The frustration in Miles’s voice was obvious, and had he been talking to anyone else, the slight hint of fear and self-loathing probably would have gone unnoticed.

“What gives you the right to make all these decisions?” Bass got up out of the bed in a huff and took a step toward Miles. Unfortunately his body hadn’t recovered from the poisons quite as quickly as his mind, and his knees buckled.

Out of instinct and habit more than any actual desire to help, Miles reached forward and caught his arm, preventing him from going down to the floor. Unbidden, compassion and worry for his one-time best friend were his first instinctual responses. Then rational thought kicked in and he sighed as he helped Bass back to a sitting position on the edge of the bed. Why did it all have to be so damn complicated? He sat down on the edge of the bed next to Bass and ran his hands roughly over his face.

“Guess I should have known.” Bass said quietly. “Back then I knew there was something with you and Rachel.” Miles looked like he was about to say something, but Bass continued. “Don’t worry. I doubt anyone else noticed it, and I never said a thing.” His shoulders slumped a bit and a small smile tugged at his lips. “Last couple weeks were pretty much a dead giveaway. Working with her on the road, fighting alongside her, it was a little too familiar. The way she handles a sword, carries herself in a fight… even you can’t teach that.”

“She never finds out.”

“It won’t come from me.”

There was a poignant pause before Miles continued, “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you about your son.”

Monroe swallowed hard. “I think part of me really hates you for this one, but I get it.”

“If we survive getting this Patriot bull shit sorted out, I’ll take you to him myself.”

“That’s a pretty big ‘if’.”’

“I need to know I can trust you again.”

Bass nodded sadly.

Miles added, “I can’t say that everybody here’s going to forget what you’ve done, but coming back from the dead seems like one hell of an opportunity for a fresh start.”

“Tell me what to do, Miles.”

“You can’t stay here. Everyone knows your face.”

“And you all need someone on the outside.”

Miles nodded and took a deep breath. “We need something else, too.”

“Name it.”

“These Patriots, they’re vicious sons-of-bitches and that wanted poster is proof they’ve got a hard on for Rachel.”

“Not sure what I can do about that.”

“I know you remember the first rule of compelling someone to give you what you want…”

“Never underestimate the power of a good hostage.” Bass repeated the words that had been Miles’s mantra during the Monroe Republic’s hay day.

“They seem to know better than to come at me head on, and I’m pretty sure that Gene is our mole, so he’s off limits. They want to get at Rachel, that leaves one option, and even you figured that one out.”

“You’re afraid they’ll come for Charlie.”

“It’s their next logical play.” Miles paused for a moment. “I need you to get her out of here.”

Bass let out a rueful laugh. “You realize what you’re asking me to do?”

“Yes. I’m asking you to take care of my kid right after I told you I didn’t trust you to take care of your own. I’m fully aware of what a hypocritical ass I’m being right now.”

“Oh, well, as long as you’re aware.”

Miles sighed. He deserved that. “Of course you just can’t do something because it’s the right thing to do.”

“Never said I wouldn’t do it.”

Miles gave him an uneasy look, not sure why Bass was being so compliant.

“Whatever our beef is, you’re still family.” He dropped his eyes at the admission. “That makes her family. And after everything that’s happened, that’s all I’ve got left. It’s more than I probably deserve.”

“She’s a lot more than either of us deserve.”


End file.
